Psychotropathy
by dougp
Summary: Ignoring faculty warnings and classmate scoffs, Hermione becomes obsessed with searching for a potion that purportedly expands the mind, imbuing the capability to learn the most complex of topics with ease. Hermione struggles to solve the mystery while discovering the boundaries of her furtive relationship with Ron. * Contains 2 Epilogue options. ** Reviews are welcomed/appreciated
1. 1 - Buried

Weariness pervaded her body as she heaved the ancient tome from the shelf onto the table. Sighing, she slumped into the chair and cracked open the book. She tried but couldn't get her eyes to focus on the text. With elbows resting on the table, she buried her face into her hands and rubbed her eyes, imploring them to eke out a few more minutes of research.

Voldemort was amassing strength and support with each passing day. While Harry spent most of his time outside of the castle forging the resistance, Hermione spent most waking hours these days in the library researching anything that may help abate the tide of darkness.

Voldemort employed archaic magic. Hermione believed the key to defeating him similarly lay buried deep in ancient magic, magic long-forgotten as unnecessary and outdated.

The book in front of her now was titled _Furry Fungi from France_ by Margot Champignon. What did fungus have to do with combating evil? Hermione had no idea; she'd been traipsing through this specific mushroom patch because three days ago she read there was once a witch who concocted a potion to temporarily turn one's skin as hard as armor. Fifteen dusty volumes later and the trail was all but dried up. The only thing she was going on now was a vague reference to metallic-tasting mushrooms from the Loire Valley in central France. She didn't expect to glean anything useful from the book in front of her. But what else was she supposed to do? Hermione intended to help fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters however she could. While she knew the time would come for her to pick up her wand and fight, right now she was determined to find whatever she could to give the side of virtue an advantage.

Her research thus far had begot spells and strategies on which Harry had coached Dumbledore's Army who, in turn, coached the ever-growing legion of wizards and witches willing to wield their wands against the forces of evil. If Harry was a well-meaning Alexander the Great, taking the fight into enemy territory, Hermione was Sun Tzu, brilliantly strategizing their maneuvers. There was no cleverer witch than her for the task. She enthusiastically embraced the responsibility, but the weight of it was getting heavy. Her innermost fear had always been not knowing an answer. Now, that fear had metastasized into paranoia, eating at her and whispering in her head: _when the time comes, you won't have the answer_.

So she prepares; she studies; she researches. She tenaciously follows any lead, regardless of its probability of yielding results. Case in point: mushrooms.

Over the next hour and a half she read passages at random. She learned how to mash a certain orange-hued fungus and combine it with flobberworm mucus to produce a potent acne cream. She learned she could blend the shavings of a foul smelling brown fungus with fur clippings of a niffler to produce sweet smelling potpourri. She learned she could add a particular brown fungus to broth with chopped onions and other vegetables to make a delicious stew. She learned the specific variety of mushroom to chew on, and for how long, to induce hallucinations that one was flying with hippogriffs.

While reading about a hairy green fungus purported to boost concentration when ingested, one line of text roused her from her trance-like studying.

"Of course it's no brain expanding potion, but the Focus Fungus can do the job in a pinch," she whispered aloud.

Hermione stewed on the concept for a while. What if there really was a potion one could concoct to increase their intelligence? The idea sent a lightning bolt of excitement coursing through her.

She knew she was done reading for the night. There's no way she could concentrate on anything else. She marked her place and tucked Champignon's book under her arm and headed for the Gryffindor dormitories.


	2. 2 - Scoffs and Admonitions

"Good morning Neville. Good morning Ron," Hermione announced as she sat down at the table.

Hermione reached under the table and surreptitiously squeezed Ron's hand. It recently became their morning routine. Two weeks ago she had pulled him into an empty classroom and what started out as an argument ended with their kissing and holding each other, vowing to keep their nascent relationship a secret as to not jeopardize or distract from their fight against the Dark Lord. She knew Ron was getting frustrated though. Her research tasks, combined with sentry rounds and correspondence with Harry had consumed the majority of her time. Aside from their morning routine, they've barely touched each other. She was irked as well. She wanted nothing more than to hold him and ride off into the sunset on their brooms. But there was too much work to do; the impending danger was too near.

"Have you heard from Harry recently?" Neville asked.

"No. Last I heard he was closing in on Jugson," Hermione replied.

"What a wanker," Ron interjected.

"Agreed," Hermione added with a grin.

She grabbed some pastries, opened a book on defensive charms, and started reading, relegating Ron and Neville's conversation to background noise mixed with the general din of the hall.

"What was the score of the Cannons match last night?" Neville asked.

Glumly, Ron responded, "The Kestrals clobbered them 270 to 30."

"Oy. That's rough."

"Yeah."

"What time do you want to meet to work out?" Neville asked.

"We can go after breakfast if you're up for it," Ron responded.

"That works," Neville said.

Hermione's ears perked up and a sly smile spread across her face. Before anyone could notice she straightened her face and kept her eyes on her book. But her mind now raced. For the last few months Ron's workouts have been more and more…fruitful. She noticed immediately when he started bulking up, but these last two weeks she's allowed herself to fantasize about being held by those muscular arms, by that sturdy chest.

As Hermione started squirming in her seat, a stream of owls flew into the Great Hall, interrupting her reverie. One by one they delivered letters and parcels. A tawny owl swooped and dropped a letter in Hermione's plate.

"Who's that from?" Ron asked.

"Looks to be from Harry," she answered.

Hermione opened the letter and read it aloud to Ron and Neville, "Dear Hermione, thanks for your advice about the Revealing Charm. Once we uttered _Aparecium, _the umbrella from their dead drop revealed that Jugson was going to Florence, Italy next. By the time we got there he had moved on. He was holed up in a magically concealed room within the Palazzo Vecchio. He must have skipped town quickly because we found some of his belongings behind. We found detailed instructions he was giving to wannabe Death Eaters on how to break out of Azkaban if they were to be captured. We're not sure where he's headed next, but we have some leads. We'll get him soon enough. Write back if you have any ideas. Thanks, Harry."

"Man, I thought Harry was going to get him," Neville said exasperatedly.

"He will. Harry's gettin' close," Ron replied.

Hermione didn't respond; she was thinking.

"I hope he gets thrown in Azkaban and rots there," Ron hissed.

"Yeah, me too. He hit me an Impediment Jinx during the battle at the Department of Mysteries," Neville added.

Noticing Hermione's silence Ron asked, "You alright Hermione?"

"Yeah, just thinking. What if…" she said and trailed off. She reached in her bag and grabbed a quill. "Ron, do you have a spare sheet of parchment?"

"Yeah, right here," he answered while handing her a sheet.

Hermione started writing, dictating out loud so the guys could follow, "Harry, that's great news. How about this though? Let him go. Stop going after Jugson. Meet with the officials at Azkaban and brief them on the escape strategies the Death Eaters are learning. This way they can fortify their weaknesses. Plus, as we track these Death Eaters down and apprehend them, they'll put up less of a fight if they think they'll be able to bust out once they get to Azkaban. Hope that helps. I'm still researching on my end for anything that can help. Hope to see you soon. Hermione"

"Brilliant," Ron said with a beaming smile.

"Yeah Hermione, that's a good idea," Neville added.

"Thanks. The others will catch on soon enough, but maybe we can get a few Death Eaters behind bars before they do."

Neville looked at Ron and asked, "You ready to get going with that workout?"

"Yeah, give me a minute though, okay? Need to ask Hermione something."

"Sure thing. I'll meet you out there."

"Thanks."

They watched as Neville walked away.

"You doing okay Mione?" Ron asked. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"A little. I found something interesting though. I was reading about fungi when I came across something intriguing."

"Fungi?"

"Yes, fungi."

"Why were you reading about fungi?"

"Don't worry about that Ron. I found a reference to something that can increase my intelligence."

"What do you mean Mione? You're the smartest person I know."

"I appreciate that Ron, but what if I could be smarter? There was a reference to a potion that I could drink to expand my brain."

Ron chuckled.

Aggravated, Hermione asked, "Why are you laughing Ron?"

"Because there's no such thing as a brain expanding potion. That's something kids joke about while they're studying for their O.W.L.s. It isn't real."

"But this book I'm reading mentions it."

"It's not real Mione. Kids' stuff."

Irritated, Hermione stood up. Walking away she said, "Ok Ron, you go work out. I need to head to the Owlry to get this letter to Harry. I'll catch up with you later."

On her way back from the Owlry, Hermione took a detour and headed for the West Tower. After navigating the shifting Grand Staircase, she knocked on Professor Flitwick's office door.

The door swung open and the Professor's voice squeaked, "Good morning Miss Granger. Come on in."

Hermione stepped into his office and took a seat at his desk.

"Would you like a cupcake Miss Granger?"

"No thank you Professor. I just ate breakfast."

"Very good. What can I help you with today?"

"Sir, I wanted to ask you about something. I was reading a book about fungi when I came upon a reference to a potion that could expand someone's brain. I know there's Baruffio's Brain Elixir, but everyone knows that doesn't work. Is there actually a potion that can do that? A potion to make someone smarter?"

"My dear, it's a myth, something first years dream about after they've taken their first Potions class."

"But could it be real?" she asked with an air of annoyance.

The Professor sat back in his chair and his jocular tone shifted to one of caution. "Miss Granger, I don't know. I've never heard of one actually working. Even if it DID exist, it's not something with which you should be meddling. That would be dark magic. Unnatural magic."

Defensively, Hermione responded, "Of course Professor. I was just curious. You know I'm always careful."

His cheerful tone returned, "Of course you are. You sure you don't want to try one of my cupcakes? They're really quite delicious."

"I'm sure Professor. Thank you for your time."

Professor Filius Flitwick rubbed his hands by the warm fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office.

The seasoned Head of Gryffindor House questioned the Head of Ravenclaw House, "She asked about it?"

"Yes, she did," Flitwick replied solemnly.

"What exactly does she think she knows?"

"She was just asking if it exists. She doesn't know much. Not yet."

"You're right. We're talking about Granger here. Thanks for alerting me Filius."


	3. 3 - Admissions

The dimly lit corridor echoed with her footsteps. Hermione ambled back to her dormitory from the library. She'd spent most of the evening searching for any reference to a mind-expanding potion. Finding nothing, she was frustrated with herself for wasting an entire day.

"Lumos!"

Startled, Hermione spun around, her face bathed in wand light.

"Oh, it's you," Ron said as he lowered his wand.

"Hi Ron," Hermione answered bitterly, blinking away the starbursts slowly receding from her vision.

"It's late. Just getting done in the library?"

"Yeah."

"Look Mione," Ron started timidly, "I'm sorry about this morning." He extinguished his wand and stuffed it into his pocket.

Hermione remained silent. Her eyes started to adjust to the dark hallway again.

Ron continued, "I can tell you're upset. I'm sorry if I was insensitive at breakfast."

She finally answered, "I'm not mad at you Ron. You're right. It's silly. I'm just scared is all."

He stepped toward her and pulled her into his chest. "I'm scared too Mione. We just have to keep to our missions. I'm going back out into the field soon. This break back here at Headquarters has been nice, especially since I have you here. Harry's counting on you for information and strategy and he's counting on the rest of us to keep Hogwarts safe and to train new recruits. Dean relieves me in a few weeks. I'm just trying to enjoy the time we have together before I have to go back out."

She didn't say anything, not right away. She felt better just having his arms wrapped around her. Eyes closed, she took in the scent of him. He smelled like the Burrow. He smelled like safety. She didn't want to leave his arms.

Softly, she finally said, "I'm not smart enough."

"What's that?" he asked, having not heard her.

She pulled away from him a little and looked him in the face. With increasing speed and volume she continued, "I'm not smart enough Ron. I can't do it. I'm going to miss something and I'm going to get someone killed, maybe even Harry. How would I live with myself? How would I…"

"Hermione!" he interrupted.

She felt his large hands cup the sides of her face. He was gentle and forceful simultaneously. He arched her face upwards and kissed her. A tide of warmth started at her scalp and trickled down her body to her toes.

Her arms wrapped tighter around him as their faces parted and they opened their eyes. She remained silent while he brushed a ringlet of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Mione, you're doing the best you can. And that's all anybody can ask of you. You're going to drive yourself crazy like this. You need a break."

"A break," she said with a weak snicker. "We don't have that luxury Ron. I just need to work harder. Or find a potion to make me smarter."

"You need to forget about that. You're plenty smart enough."

Knowing it was useless, she didn't argue. Instead she whispered, "Kiss me again, Ron."

They closed their eyes and fell into each other. Her back hit the wall as he pushed her slightly forward. His arms wrapped around her neck while she grasped his waist and pulled him into her.

The dark hallway melted around her. In that moment, research was the last thing on her mind. Books were replaced with fiery red hair; potions replaced with strong hands and soft lips.

He broke the embrace and took a step backward. She kept her eyes closed for just a moment longer, not wanting it to end.

"Mione, I have to get on with my patrol. Seamus will sound the alarm if I don't meet up with him soon."

When Hermione opened her eyes she saw, perhaps for the first time, the man Ron had become. Although they had only recently celebrated their eighteenth birthdays, the world had aged them prematurely. The load that circumstance had demanded they bear was unfair. Instead of enjoying their last year at Hogwarts and the excitement of an imminent career, they were staring armageddon in the face, holding back chaos with little more than wishful thinking. In that moment she was proud of Ron, proud to be standing with him as a soldier and as his girlfriend.

"Right. You better get going," she said.

"I'll see you at breakfast. Goodnight Mione."

"Goodnight Ron."

He squeezed her hand and disappeared down the gloomy corridor.

Before he could get far she called out to him, "Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said timidly.

"I love you too," he responded tenderly.

She didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling from ear to ear.


	4. 4 - Filth

"Scourgify," Hermione uttered as she swished her wand. The thick layer of dust and mold disappeared from the book in front of her.

Her research moved from the general section of the library to the Restricted Section a while ago. The books she were reading these days had long been forsaken by students and teachers alike. Most were rightfully abandoned, but every once in a while she came across a tidbit of information she mentally filed away as potentially beneficial.

Sometimes her research was focused on learning a specific skill or tactic, while, like now, it meandered around a general topic. Today: Wizarding Wars.

The current text for her information excavation was _Hitler, Tojo, Grindelwald, Roosevelt, Churchill, and Albus_ by Bathilda Bagshot. Much has been written both about the global wizarding war and about the muggles' Work War II, but Hermione had never seen a book discuss the two conflicts combined. Upon reading through the table of contents, she surmised that Bagshot highlights the occurrences where specific battles influenced each other directly.

The next fews hours consisted of tales of back-channel communications, double-crossing spies, and secret accords which kept each world's conflicts from spilling into each other. One specific item she found interesting was mention of a Warlock Convention that coincided with the muggles' second Geneva Convention following the two concurrent global wars. That was where she wanted to focus her attention next.

She rose from her chair and stretched. She checked the time; it was late, but too early for her to call it a night. She returned Bagshot's book back to its place and started out towards the historical reference shelves of the Restricted Section.

This was her favorite time of day; the library was completely empty and the only sounds were her footsteps down the aisles. This time of night is also when her thoughts invariably drifted to Ron. Their tryst in the hallway was four days ago and she sorely missed his arms wrapped around her.

She stopped short and looked down a short passageway off the main aisle. What had caught her eye? She'd passed this nook a hundred times before and hadn't paid it much attention. On her first visit here the librarian had told her this is where they kept the, in her words, "trash books." Then she noticed it. On a small placard above a short shelf was a lone symbol: a red heart. Her thoughts of Ron must have connected with it.

She made her way to the shelf and examined some titles. Sure enough, most looked like romance novels and divination charts. As she was about to turn around and leave she noticed a book from a familiar author: _Surreptitious Seduction_ by Miranda Goshawk. Hermione couldn't believe the author of the various _Standard Book of Spells_ textbooks could have written a book about seduction! She snatched the book and put it in her bag to read later.

She continued to the historical reference aisle and found the section with the plaque "1940 - 1950" and started reading the titles. Three shelves down she found what she was looking for: _The International Warlock Convention of 1949_ by Ian Neilson.


	5. 5 - Directives

A streak of crimson and gold whooshed over her head causing her to look up from her reading.

It was a beautiful afternoon on the Quidditch pitch: the sky a brilliant blue, not a cloud in sight, and a pleasant breeze blowing in from the lake. Hermione sat in the stands reading her book as the Gryffindor Quidditch team held their practice. It was mostly younger players as the older students, like Harry and Ron, were occupied with more pressing matters. Regardless, she enjoyed watching them flit about as a backdrop to her research.

She was reading through _The International Warlock Convention of 1949_, learning about the various adopted provisions regarding the magical treatment of prisoners of war. She couldn't understand why this book was in the Restricted Section; everything she'd read so far had been public knowledge as far as she knew.

As she pondered this question a familiar voice came from behind her, "Good afternoon Miss Granger."

She turned around and saw Professor McGonagall making her way down to her row in the stands. "Hello Professor," Hermione answered.

With a sigh, Professor McGonagall sat down next to Hermione and stared off towards the players on the pitch.

After a few moments Hermione broke the silence by asking, "Any word from the field, Professor?"

Not taking her eyes off the field, she answered, "It's getting rough out there. I don't know what we'd do without you students." Shaking her head she continued, "It's a shame what we're asking of you. It's just not fair. Harry, Ron, Ginny…they should all be on this pitch practicing right now. Kingsley's in Budapest. There's a rumor that Bellatrix is there, searching for something. Something nasty I'm sure."

The two sat in silence for a while watching two fifth years hit a Bludger back and forth to each other.

Professor McGonagall finally turned her head to look at Hermione. She said, "How are you doing Miss Granger?"

"I'm okay," she answered.

"You've been spending a lot of time in the library…a lot of time in the Restricted Section."

"Yes ma'am. I appreciate you giving me unconditional access."

"I was happy to do it. There's never been a student I trusted more than you Miss Granger. I think the time turner proved that a few years ago. I know that Harry and the rest of us are counting on you and what you can learn about beating the dark magic You-Know-Who is bound to hit us with." She hesitated, then continued, "I'm going to ask you straight-out…are you searching for a way to magically increase your intelligence?"

The question caught Hermione off guard. She stammered, "Well I…I found a reference to potion that could help…you know…help with making someone smarter. I thought if I could find out how to make it I could maybe try it." Noticing the grimace forming on the Professor's face, she added, "I need it Professor! I'm so scared." She buried her face in her hands and whimpered, "I need it."

Professor McGonagall put her hand on Hermione's back and said, "Hermione, I know you're scared. We're all scared. But you can't be messing with that. There are witches and wizards that have spent time in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's after trying to mess with brain-altering magic. It just isn't worth it Hermione."

Sniffling, she answered, "I know. I know."

"You need to promise me you'll drop it."

"I will Professor. I promise."

Once Professor McGonagall left, Hermione continued reading _The International Warlock Convention of 1949_. She finished the last chapter, but there was still more to the book. She turned the page and found appendices not listed in the Table of Contents at the beginning of the book.

She could feel her excitement rising. She realized that these appendices must be why the book was in the Restricted Section. She read:

_Appendix A - Secret Accords_

_ Following the detonation of nuclear weapons by the United States over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, The Ministry of Magic deemed it necessary to broker an agreement with the non-magical governments of The United States, The United Kingdom, and Canada, all direct supporters of nuclear research and development efforts. High ranking members of the Ministry met with J. Robert Oppenheimer in London on March 4, 1948 to agree on […]_

_Appendix B - Pardons_

_ The war crime trials following the worldwide skirmishes were numerous and mostly open to the public. There were a few that, because of the nature of their crimes, required secrecy. One such trial not only was held in secret, but the defendant was summarily pardoned for all crimes afterwards. Were the public to know of the crimes committed, not only would faith in the Ministry of Magic be irreparably harmed, but faith in any such institution by the magical community would be decimated for generations. Because of this, not only was Abraxas Malfoy pardoned, he […]_

_Appendix C - Torture_

_ As stated in section IV, subsection B of this volume, torture of any kind has been prohibited as it pertains to non-combatants and surrendering combatants. The Cruciatus Curse, obviously, was heavily referenced in this text. But there exists another, perhaps more sinister, method of torture sought after during the global wizarding war._

_ It started as a book of knowledge. Written by Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the book magically imparted the reader with extraordinary intelligence and the capacity to learn the most complex topics with ease. Soon after she was done writing it, Rowena loaned the book to select students, guiding them through the complexities of mind expansion. All was well in the beginning, but it wasn't long until things turned grim. As long as Rowena was involved with the students, things went well. It was when someone read the book alone, without her guidance that things ended poorly. There exists accounts of young witches and wizards going insane, killing themselves, killing others, and additional ghastly things of the sort._

_ For these reasons Rowena hid the book away so that no one could be hurt by it again. For the rest of her life she brushed away requests from witches and wizards to see it and read it. Near her death, and presumably not of sound mind, she left a cryptic clue as to the whereabouts of the book. When asked about the hidden location of the book by a former student she replied:_

Go down to where you've been before,

And find you've never been.

Say the name of that most pure,

Which was and is again.

Psychotropathy by Rowena Ravenclaw_ has been lost ever since. During the global wizarding war, a faction within the Ministry of Magic was tasked with locating the book. The plan was to coerce prisoners of war to read the book, with the intention of causing mental distress in the hopes of inducing confessions and divulgence of secret information. Many locations were searched, including the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts, Rowena's home, and other notable locations from her life. The book was never found and the plan to use it abandoned._

A rush of adrenalin coursed through her body. _It's a book! _Hermione's mind raced, contemplating where the book could be hidden. The riddle played over and over through her mind, her promise to Professor McGonagall long forgotten.


	6. 6 - Disregard

"Hey! Hermione!" Ron shouted as he jogged to catch up with Hermione.

She was crossing the courtyard, a black and maroon figure trudging through the white snow from the blizzard the previous day.

Catching up with her and panting, Ron said, "Hi Mione."

She turned around to look at him, her eyes blinking to fend off the light snow falling now and accumulating on her eyelashes. It seemed to take a moment for her to recognize her boyfriend standing directly in front of her. Rousing from her daze, she finally answered, "Oh, hi Ron."

"Mione, I haven't seen you in days. Where have you been? I've been worried about you?"

Her eyes darted towards to direction she was headed and back to Ron. She answered distractedly, "Huh? Oh, I've been reading and, uh, looking for something."

"Looking for something? You're not still fixated on that smarts potion are you?"

Honestly, she answered, "No…no. Not looking for a potion."

"Good," he said and added, "Let's get inside."

After stepping through the Fat Lady's portrait, Ron and Hermione hung their coats and sat by the fire. The Gryffindor Common Room was crowded with young students unable to enjoy the snow-laden grounds.

Ron looked at Hermione, who said little on their walk to the Common Room and now appeared deep in thought. "Mione, you okay?" he said.

She took a deep breath and said, "Yeah, I'm fine Ron. Just busy."

Ron let the silence grow between them. He watched her gaze absently into the fire, wishing he could read her mind to help solve whatever had her distracted. Her robes were wrinkled and her hair disheveled; she looked like she hadn't slept in days.

A first year came near the fire to warm her hands. Hermione's attention was drawn to the young witch. She was who they were fighting for. She was why Hermione had spent endless hours in the library learning military strategy, researching obscure dark magic, preparing defensive spells, and, lately, searching for anything that may give her an intellectual advantage.

Abruptly, Hermione stood and faced Ron. He got up as well and she fell into his arms. She pulled away and said, "I have to go to bed now. I'll see you tomorrow."

It was still early; the sun had just set. Confused, Ron answered, "Ok, Mione. See you tomorrow." He watched as Hermione climbed the stairs to her dormitory.

Sitting in her bed, she read the riddle again from her notes:

_ Go down to where you've been before,_

_ And find you've never been._

_ Say the name of that most pure,_

_ Which was and is again._

For the last few days Hermione had been contemplating the referenced location in the riddle. She knew from _The International Warlock Convention of 1949_ that various places from Rowena Ravenclaw's past were searched to no avail. She couldn't up and leave Hogwarts and search around the world, so she focused her hunt within Hogwarts.

She naturally surmised the first two lines of the riddle identified the location where the book was hidden and the last two lines hinted at some sort of word or phrase that needed to be uttered once there.

She initiated her search down by the lake, the lowest elevation on Hogwarts grounds. It occurred to her early in her hunt that, even if she were to stumble onto the location, she had no idea what words to say once she was there. That didn't keep her from trying; her first day of searching consisted of walking around the lake saying random words and phrases. A witness to the scene would have no choice but to conclude that she had lost her mind, a hopeless witch destined to wander aimlessly conversing nonsensically with herself.

The next day was the dungeons. She got more than a few uneasy stares from Slytherins coming and going.

She even contemplated making her way down to the Chamber of Secrets, but ultimately decided against it, thinking it unlikely Ravenclaw would hide the book down there.

Frustrated, she tossed her parchment of notes to the side and slumped back in bed. She was out of ideas. She needed to clear her mind. Rifling through her bag she pulled out Miranda Goshawk's _Surreptitious Seduction_. Smiling, she flipped through the book, checking out the various section titles: _Brewing Love - Potions for the Smitten_, _Love Language - Adventurous Communications_, and _Getting Physical - Audaciously Kinky_.

Hermione had no interest in messing with love potions; Ron's unfortunate encounter with Romilda Vane's chocolates were enough of a deterrent. She didn't think he would appreciate any more love potion adventures. Plus, their feelings were more than strong enough without magical help. Granted, there were directions for potions to help if Ron ever had trouble "gearing up for the task" later in life. She hoped they didn't need to worry about that just yet.

The other two sections piqued her curiosity though. She spent the rest of the night reading through the book. For the first time in days the riddle was pushed from her mind, replaced with naughty things she could do with and for Ron.

The guidance ranged from schoolgirl crush silliness to mature, adult-themed activities. It became abundantly clear to Hermione why this book was tucked away in the Restricted Section of the library.

She learned how to send Ron magical kisses through the post. She filed that one away for when Ron had to leave Hogwarts again. She also learned how to utter a small spell ("Phlogiston") while they were hugging that encircled their embrace with warmness, even outside on the coldest of days, as if they were laying next to a brilliant fire. One of her favorite parts of the book were spells used to enchant musical instruments to play romantic music.

Her sleep was restless that night. She dreamt that Ron was perpetually hidden from her. Each time she thought she found him she would run to hug and kiss him only to have him dematerialize right in front of her. She would grasp her wand and point it at him to save him, but the spell to utter never came to her mind.


	7. 7 - Tethered and Tantalized

The bright sun shone overhead as Ron walked the perimeter of the Hogwarts grounds. The snow had melted and the temperature had risen significantly. While still cool outside, his sentry duty was immensely more enjoyable wearing just his robes than when bundled up in multiple layers, slogging through deep snow with frozen toes.

In the distance he watched as young students flitted about the grounds, seemingly oblivious to the dangers outside the castle. He suspected one day the fight would come to them. In the meantime, he was happy they were blissfully unaware. In fact, he was a little jealous; he pined for the days when he, Harry, and Hermione had strode about the campus like they owned the place. The problems then had been perilous, sure. However, cloaked in their naïveté the dilemmas always appeared surmountable. They always seemed to have adults poised at the outskirts, ready to jump in and save the day if needed. The difference now was that they were the adults. They were responsible for fixing things. They were responsible for life or death.

Ron knew the weight of these responsibilities laid heavy on Hermione's shoulders. He wished he could take on that burden for her. But, he knew his weaknesses and he knew her strengths. They were performing the parts required of them.

His walk took him down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. This was his least favorite part of his rounds. Every time he got near the forest it felt like spiders were crawling across his skin. Hurriedly, he made his way along the perimeter, glad to see Hagrid's hut up ahead — a sign that he could put the Forbidden Forest behind him soon enough. As he got closer, he saw someone emerging from the trees behind the hut. Hagrid was away from the castle so there shouldn't have been anyone lurking there. Instinctively, his hand darted deep into his robe's pocket and pulled out his wand.

As he moved closer he saw it was Hermione, distractedly muttering to herself as she made her way from the foliage.

"Good morning Hermione," Ron said as he approached her.

"Oh, Ron. Hi. I didn't see you there", she answered. The bemused look on her face changed to one of pleasant surprise. "Oh! I have something I want to show you."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back door of Hagrid's hut. She swung the door open and pushed him inside. He stumbled into the hut and turned around as she closed the door behind her. She reached into her pocket and grabbed her wand. Pointing it at him she said, "Incarcerous!"

Rope sprang from her wand, pulled his arms behind his back, and affixed itself around his wrists in a knot. She took a step towards him and pushed him down into Hagrid's enormous chair.

Before he could comprehend what was going on she climbed on top of him and straddled his lap. She grabbed his face and fell into him, kissing him deeply.

When she came up for air he gasped, "Mione, what are you doing?"

"Shhhh," she whispered with a crazed look in her eyes. "Just enjoy it."

She kissed him again and he finally closed his eyes and surrendered. Wiggling his wrists behind his back he realized that the rope wasn't bound tight; he could release himself anytime he wanted.

Her hands moved from his faced and explored his broad shoulders, sinewy arms, and sculpted chest. They both moaned with pleasure. The stress trapped within them seemed to evaporate.

She broke their kiss and sat up, looking him in the face. He could see the pain, confusion, and torment deep within her eyes.

He broke the silence by saying, "I see you've learned a new trick."

That broke the tension. She started giggling and collapsed down on him, burying her face in his neck. He pulled his arms loose from their binds and wrapped them around her. They stayed crumpled together for a few minutes until their breathing synchronized.

Finally, Hermione stood up and pulled Ron to his feet. They held hands as they walked out the front door of the hut and into the late morning sun.

"I gotta grab some lunch but can I catch up with you later?" Ron asked.

"Maybe. I have some work I need to do. I'll try to come find you later."

"Ok," he said reluctantly.

He wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her to him. He kissed her softly and let her go.

"See you later," he said and turned to resume his patrolling.

"You hear about the Carrows?" Neville asked through a mouth full of roast beef.

"No," Ron answered, not taking his attention away from the sandwich and chips in front of him.

A kaleidoscopic array of light shone down from stained glass windows around the Great Hall. They were eating lunch in the packed hall, surrounded by students, teachers, and Ministry visitors.

"They murdered a group of muggles in broad daylight yesterday in Manchester," Neville explained in hushed tones to keep from being overheard.

Ron shook his head and said, "Damn." He continued, "I know Lupin just missed catching up with them in Leeds. He's going to be blaming himself for this I bet." Then he added another, "Damn."

"We need to get a win sooner or later, right?" Neville asked rhetorically. "I'm tired of those scum wreaking havoc wherever they go. Aside from the Lestranges, I don't know if there's a family I hate more than the Carrows."

Ron still seemed to be processing the murders. Instead of eating he was now just fidgeting with the chips on his plate. "Damn," he said again.

Changing the subject, Ron asked, "Hey, have you seen Hermione lately?"

"I've seen her around, but I haven't talked to her. She's looking a little frazzled if you ask me."

"Yeah, I'm worried about her," Ron admitted. "She just hasn't seemed like herself. I think she's trying to take the whole war onto her shoulders by herself. She's the strongest person I know but even she can't do this alone. She used to write to members of the Order every day, but I haven't seen her send a single owl out in days. I think she needs a break."

Licking his fingers after having cleared his plate, Neville responded, "Yeah, I agree. We all need some time off. Too bad the Death Eaters won't agree to take a break. 'Hey You-Know-Who, mind taking a break for a few days? We could sure use a quick vacation down to Edinburgh.'"

They both let out a half-hearted chuckle. That's the best they could muster.

Finally, Ron said, "Alright. I have to go. I'll catch up with you later Neville."

"See you later Ron."

Ron tumbled into bed; he was exhausted. He'd spent the remainder of the afternoon and most of the night practicing defensive spells with some students. He rubbed his eyes, prodding them for a few more minutes of usefulness before they closed for the night. He still wanted to write a letter to Lupin, although he didn't quite know what he was going to say. He turned over to grab a quill and parchment from his bedside table when he noticed a strange object there. It was a small cube, shiny black and about the size of a Quidditch Snitch.

He picked it up, carefully turning it in his hands as he examined it. Five of the six sides were mirror smooth; the remaining side consisted of an etched pattern with a flat circle at its center.

He placed his finger on the smooth circle and the cube began to vibrate. Startled, he dropped the cube on his bed between his outstretched legs and shuffled backwards against the headboard.

Suddenly, a puff of multi-colored smoke erupted from the pattern on the cube. The smoke swirled in front of him until it constituted itself into a the form of…Hermione! Three feet tall and dressed in her black robes, she stood smirking at him. He was astonished at how real and solid she looked. He reached out and passed his hand through the smoke. It dispersed and quickly reformed back into the image of his girlfriend.

Then it spoke, "Hello Ron. I've made a present for you. You'll be able to take me with you wherever you go." With a coquettish smile she added, "This should keep you company on lonely nights away from me." Then her countenance turned serious, "To ensure it's really you Ron, you'll have to say the password. Think back to our first year at Hogwarts. Snape refereed Gryffindor's Quidditch match against Slytherin. The password is related to that."

Her image went silent, tapping her foot awaiting the password. Ron's tired brain went into overdrive. _To what could she be referring?_ He remembered that Harry had caught the snitch quickly, giving Gryffindor the win. _Could it be something about that?_

He tentatively said, "Gryfindor wins."

The Hermione image briefly flashed a shade of crimson and said, "Nope, try again."

He thought about the match a little more. At the time they suspected Snape was trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Of course, it was Professor Quirrell who was after the stone, but they didn't know that at the time. The previous match Harry was almost thrown off his broom by a curse. They believed something like that was going to happen again.

He looked at the image and muttered, "Curse."

Again, Hermione flashed crimson and said, "Nope, try again."

Ron felt the exhaustion again. The adrenaline was starting to wane. Then he realized the password had to be something only he knew. Anyone could have guessed the passwords he tried thus far. He struggled to remember what he and Hermione were doing by themselves at that time. They certainly weren't as close as they are now. Then it hit him. Before the match while Harry was training they got together, just the two of them, to practice a particular spell to use on Snape in case he tried to curse Harry's broom again.

Confidently, Ron said aloud, "Locomotor Mortis."

Hermione's image momentarily flashed green and with a beaming smile said, "Very good Ron. I'm glad you remember."

She then continued, "Now then, since we've got that out of the way, I have a present for you. You may want to make sure there's nobody else around."

Ron looked around the empty room, thankful the rest of his roommates had nighttime duties to which they were attending.

"First let's get rid of this." Hermione began unfastening the buttons on her robes. Ron swallowed hard and sat up straight. She let the black robes fall from her shoulders to her feet and it disappeared from sight. "How do you like this, Ron?"

Ron sat still, completely amazed and engrossed. Hermione's image was now standing in front of him in bright orange clothes. Across the front of her skin-tight, short-sleeved shirt was the crest of his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. She started to turn around slowly, letting Ron get a 360 degree view of her. With her back to him, she looked over her shoulder and bit her lip seductively. As she did this, pictures of cannons on each side of her shorts shot cannon balls across each other.

As she continued to turn around slowly, Ron thought about how he'd never seen this side of Hermione, both literally and figuratively.

When she was back facing forward, she started swaying her hips back and forth, as if to a slow song playing in her head, and lifted her arms over her head. She put her head down forward, her hair covering her face. Then she threw her head backwards, staring straight at Ron with hungry eyes and open, pouty lips.

"Do you like what you see, Ron?" she asked him. Ron silently nodded, his mouth agape. He didn't respond not because he knew he was just staring at an enchanted image of Hermione, but actually because he couldn't form the words in his mouth. He was too shocked to vocalize his thoughts.

Not needing an answer from Ron, Hermione's image continued, "I knew you would. For how long have you thought about this body?" She then teased, "Do you want to see more?"

Again, Ron just nodded, frozen in place leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

Slowly, Hermione crossed her arms in front of her and grabbed the bottom of her shirt. In one motion she pulled the shirt off over her head. She tossed it to the side and, like the robes, it disappeared. She then turned her back to Ron, grabbed the waistband of her shorts, and slowly bent forward pulling her shorts to her ankles. Arching her back, she stood up slowly, and kicked off her shorts. Turning back around, she put her hands on her hips and looked at Ron with a smirk on her face. Her bra and panties were scarlet with gold lace. She continued to dance gracefully, exploring her body with her hands.

After a few minutes she stopped dancing. She reached and grabbed her wand. She muttered something and with a flick of her wrist she was fully robed again. She looked forward again and earnestly said, "I love you Ron. Please be careful out there." She blew him a kiss and dissolved into a swirl of smoke that returned to the cube whence it came.


	8. 8 - Choices

The cool, windless night was deathly silent. The full moon overhead was as bright as a spotlight. Hermione was standing in an open field, endless moonlit grass in every direction. She stood there for an eternity, unsure which way to go.

Finally, she called out, "Ron! Where are you?" No response. "Harry?" Nothing. "Anyone out there?"

Not even the crickets or frogs in the grass answered her call. She was alone.

She put one foot in front of the other and began walking. She tried to run but her legs felt like they were submerged in a thick potion.

"Hello? Can anyone help me?!"

Still no answer.

She dropped to her knees, put her head on the ground, and started crying. She lifted her head to scream but she wasn't in the field anymore. She was in a place she knew quite well. Around her were shelves of books from floor to ceiling. She was in Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore in Diagon Alley. She stood up from the floor and looked around. The store was obviously closed as it was dark and devoid of customers. She started walking towards the front door when she heard footsteps from behind the shelves next to her. She froze mid-step and listened. Silence again. She again started making her way to the door when she heard a book drop. This time she bolted for the door, not looking back. She flung the door open and spilled out into the street.

She expected to see the normal nighttime dwellers of Diagon Alley, but the street was empty, not a soul in sight. She hurried across the street and ducked behind a large black cauldron outside Potage's Cauldron Shop. She watched the door to Flourish and Blotts to see if she was being followed. Sure enough, the door slowly opened and a figure emerged. It was cloaked in shadows so she couldn't make out his or her face. The figure looked both ways down Diagon Alley and started moving in the direction of The Leaky Cauldron.

Once the figure was a few shops down the street, Hermione emerged from her hiding place and tiptoed in the opposite direction towards Gringotts. As she was passing the bank she glanced over her shoulder. To her horror, the figure was standing in the middle of the street only a few steps behind her.

She ducked into the closest door she could locate and found herself in The Magical Menagerie. The animals in cages along the walls made a tremendous racket as her appearance in the shop roused them from their sleep. She ducked behind a large cage containing a black cat. The cat looked at her indifferently and then returned to licking itself.

She remained crouched behind the cage, her heart beating in her chest. The door to the shop opened lazily and in stepped the shadow figure. She breathed heavily, not concerned with being heard over the raucous commotion of the animals.

The figure made its way along the opposite wall from her, slowly looking at each animal as it went. Even at this close range Hermione couldn't make out any features of the person. Now that the figure was deep into the shop she guessed she could make a break for the door.

She stood and dashed across the shop. She pushed the heavy door outward and tumbled into…Dumbledore's office. Confused, she turned around to see from where she had come. Behind the large wooden door was a descending spiral staircase lit with torches. The cacophony of animal noises was gone.

Hermione stepped into the office and looked around. The portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses adorned the walls of the circular room. But, they were all empty, each bereft of their respective inhabitants. Likewise, all the desks, tables, and shelves were devoid of any books, objects, or knickknacks. The only thing of note in the room was Fawkes, Dumbledore's loyal Phoenix. She approached the bird and admired his crimson feathers and golden tail.

"Good evening, Miss Granger."

Hermione spun around, surprised to see Dumbledore seated behind his desk.

"Oh…hi Professor Dumbledore," she stammered.

He stood up and walked to a window across the room. Hermione followed him and peered out, expecting to see the grounds below. Instead, she looked down on a gruesome scene. Witches and wizards were being pulled apart, grotesque caricatures of the Vitruvian Man, with limbs being discarded left and right with reckless abandon.

Horrified, Hermione asked, "Professor, what is that? Where are we?"

Dumbledore let out a little squeak of a laugh and said, "You tell me."

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Hermione turned her back to the window and changed the subject, "Professor, have you heard of a book written by Rowena Ravenclaw called _Psychotropathy_?"

"Yes, I have."

"Is it really as dangerous as they say? Could someone really go crazy if they read it?"

Dumbledore turned to look at Hermione and said solemnly, "I do not know. I imagine that book contains…complicated magic."

She started speaking faster now, "Because I think I can read it. I think I can handle it. I mean, have you ever seen me _not_ take on a book? I think I need to try. What if I can make myself smarter? Isn't it my obligation to try? Other witches and wizards are risking their lives. Isn't everyone counting on me to be smarter than You-Know-Who?"

She stopped to take a breath. Dumbledore reached out and took her hands in his.

"Miss Granger, we all have our decisions to make. Time and time again you lot surprise me with your bravery. But do not let bravery overshadow your instincts. Only you know what is right for you. There is not anyone else who can make that decision for you."

He let go of her hands and walked behind his desk. Hermione took a few steps towards the large door and stopped. She turned around and asked, "Professor, do you know the answer to Ravenclaw's riddle? Do you know how to find the book?"

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled while he flashed a smile. With outstretched arms he said, "The answers you seek are right in front of you."

As he said this Fawkes began singing a beautiful song.

Hermione shot up in bed. She smiled and muttered, "Phoenix."

She threw off her bedsheets and grabbed her notes. She read the riddle again:

_ Go down to where you've been before,_

_ And find you've never been._

_ Say the name of that most pure,_

_ Which was and is again._

Phoenixes are majestic creatures, known for their bravery and loyalty. They also periodically burst into flames and are reborn. They were and are again.

She said the word aloud again, "Phoenix."

She was certain she'd solved the second part of the riddle. That only left the location. After hastily getting dressed, she spent the rest of the morning retracing her steps, uttering the word "Phoenix" everywhere she could think to try.

By midday she was dejected again. She opted to skip lunch and pore through _Hogwarts, a History_ for anything to do with Rowena Ravenclaw. Hermione searched for any aspect of Ravenclaw's association with Hogwarts that could help solve the first part of the riddle. Aside from being one of the founders, Ravenclaw's contributions to the school were vast. She picked the Scottish Highlands as the location for the school as well as giving it the name _Hogwarts_. She also decided the staircases and floor plans of the castle should move.

The revelation hit Hermione like a Bludger to the stomach. The Grand Staircase!

_ Go down to where you've been before,_

_ And find you've never been._

Thinking back on her first year at Hogwarts, she, Ron, and Harry unexpectedly found themselves someplace they'd never been before after an involuntary shift of the stairs beneath their feet.

Heart racing, she grabbed her wand and bolted out the dormitory. She ran through the corridors making her way towards the staircase. She turned a corner and instantaneously felt like she hurled herself into an icy bath. She kept running, warmth returning to her skin, and shouted backwards, "Sorry Sir Nicholas!"

Nearly Headless Nick replied simply, "Don't worry my dear, it happens all the time."

Hermione stopped short in the Entrance Hall and craned her neck upwards, watching as the staircases shifted this way and that. Reciting the riddle again in her head, she lowered her gaze to the staircases leading downward toward the dungeons. She set off down the steps, plunging deeper into the castle. She arrived at the bottommost landing that ended at a door which opened into the passageway leading to the Potions Master's office.

She remained standing on the last step. She had, in fact, been here before. Many times, actually. The problem was, she never saw this particular set of stairs move. Granted, she never hung out here for very long. Nobody did; this door was the only destination for which anyone ever bothered coming down here.

Softly, she said, "Phoenix." Nothing happened. She said it again, a little more loudly this time. Again, nothing happened. She remained still for what seemed like an eternity. Just as she was about to recite the Revelio Charm, she felt the stair beneath her feet vibrate. The staircase she was standing on started to rotate! She grabbed hold of the railing until the staircase came to a stop, butted up against an empty gray brick wall.

She placed her hands against the solid wall, took a deep breath, and muttered, "Phoenix".

This time, the stair beneath her immediately started shaking violently. She scurried backwards up a few steps and watched as the bottom three steps folded onto themselves, twisting and sinking, forming a spiral staircase down into the ground.

Hermione whispered, "Lumos" and started descending, guided by wandlight, into the inky puddle of darkness.

Once her head cleared the opening, the stairs above her twisted themselves closed, leaving her wand as the only source of light. She spiraled downward until she was dizzy; she lost count of how many floors she went down. Finally, the stairs gave way to an opening into a small chamber. When she stepped inside, torches along the perimeter lit up with a "whoosh" revealing a room with a low ceiling about the size of the inside of Hagrid's hut.

Across the chamber were two large wooden doors emblazoned with an eagle with outstretched wings. Hermione extinguished her wand, took a step forward and then froze. She suddenly remembered what happened the last time someone ventured deep into a chamber built by a Hogwarts founder. Harry, Ron, and Ginny barely made it out of Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets alive. She didn't want to believe that Rowena Ravenclaw could house something as dangerous as a Basilisk down here. But she couldn't be sure what was lurking behind the doors.

Apprehensively, she approached the doors and gave them a push. She expected them to be locked, but instead they opened into a spacious, torchlit office. Along the opposite wall from the doors was a floor to ceiling fireplace. To her left was an ornate sofa with plush royal blue cushions, matching chairs, and shelves filled with books and other paraphernalia. To her right was a massive, elaborate desk with various contents strewn across its surface.

It struck Hermione that she was standing in Rowena Ravenclaw's personal office. Perhaps it was a workspace Ravenclaw kept secret from the other founders of the school, a space she could visit to have some time to herself. Hermione could relate to that.

There wasn't a speck of dust in sight, but Hermione instinctively knew that a living soul hadn't been down here in many, many years. She didn't want to touch anything and also wanted to touch everything at the same time. Out of respect for Rowena Ravenclaw, she wanted to turn around, close the large wooden doors behind her, climb the spiral staircase, and exit this sacred space, never mentioning a word about it to anyone. But she remained firmly planted in place; she was on a mission. She was here to find _Psychotropathy_. If the book was on the Hogwarts grounds, it was somewhere in this office.

After closing the doors behind her she slowly approached the desk and grazed her fingers along the smooth surface as she walked around and pulled out the high back chair tucked underneath. Holding her breath, she sat down and put her hands flat on the desk. After a few moments she exhaled and got to work. She inspected the contents on the surface of the desk: quill, ink, blank parchment, and something that looked like a Remembrall. Next, she inspected the drawers: various potion ingredients, more blank parchment, and odd trinkets she didn't recognize. No books.

She got up and crossed the room to the shelves. Of course there were books here but, unsurprisingly, she didn't find _Psychotropathy_. She shifted her attention to the pictures. One showed a beautiful witch in a sweeping dark blue gown. Hermione assumed it was a young Rowena Ravenclaw. Another frame captured the beaming mother with her perpetually giggling baby.

Hermione moved to the sofa and sat down. She scanned the room again, trying to take in as many details as she could. The desk across from her was beautiful. The legs were carved and ended at the floor with eagle talons. The fireplace to her left was massive. Surrounding the opening was gray stone carved into elaborate patterns and scenes. She got up to inspect them closer. There were depictions of wizards, witches, and beasts of all shapes and sizes. Some of the scenes appeared to be of duels and battles. Some appeared to be of celebrations and feasts. Each was equally beautiful, obviously crafted with amazing skill.

She crossed back to the shelves and perused the titles more closely. She grabbed a book titled _Wise and Whimsical: A Study of Extraordinary Scottish Witches_ and sat down to read. For a while she read about the women Rowena Ravenclaw probably admired and wanted to emulate. She set the book down and sighed. Hermione wondered where she would end up in the pantheon of the greatest witches and wizards. Would she stand proudly with Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Albus Dumbledore, and the like? Harry was certainly destined for greatness. Would she just be remembered as a childhood classmate of Harry? Would she be remembered at all?

She stood up and replaced the book. She crouched down to look at the books on the bottom shelf and noticed a thin book tucked in the thin gap between the last shelf and the floor. With two fingers she managed to grasp it and pull it out. The book was emerald green and didn't have any words or writing on the front or back covers. She opened the book and flipped through the pages. They were all blank. She closed the book and went to put it on a shelf. As she was nestling it between two other books, she noticed a red line across the top, from the spine to the edge of the pages. She quickly pulled the book back and opened it. The centermost page had turned ruby red. Written there in a flourished green script were the words:

_ Sit back and admire,_

_ By the light of the glowing fire,_

_ The grand span of wings,_

_ And what the eagle brings._

The words disappeared and were replaced with a shallow opening deeper than the book was thick. Nestled there were two bronze eagles, each about the size of a Galleon. Hermione grabbed the eagles and watched as the compartment disappeared and was replaced with a blank white page. She put the book down on the desk and turned the eagles over in her hands. They were unusually heavy.

Something clicked in her head and she realized that she recognized these eagles. She quickly walked back to the fireplace and examined the engravings again. Sure enough, on each side of the fireplace were matching eagles, each in their own different scene. Unlike the other animals in the scenes, the eagles were recessed into the stone instead of protruding. Based on nothing but instinct, she placed one of the bronze eagles into the scene. She let go and suddenly it began flapping its wings. On the opposite side, she placed the other eagle into its place. It, too, started moving. Hermione stepped back and watched the two small eagles flap their wings. They let out a loud screech while a stone in the floor at the base of the fireplace opened, revealing a small cavity.

Dropping to her knees, Hermione looked into the opening and saw it there. By itself in the hole was a dark blue book with gold writing across the front, spelling out _Psychotropathy_. With trembling hands she reached for the book. And stopped. She pulled her arms back and sat down. She understood this was the point of no return. She knew the prudent thing to do was to leave the book where it laid and leave this place.

She put her face in her hands and started weeping. She felt hopeless, scared, and invigorated all at the same time. Half of her desperately wanted to open that book and half of her wanted to run out of here screaming.

She reached down and took hold of the book. She hugged it to her chest as tears streamed down her face. She lowered her arms and placed the book flat on the floor. She wiped her face with her sleeve, resolve shining in her eyes. Slowly, Hermione placed her hand on the cover.


	9. Epilogue - Option 1

Ron descended the stairs and pushed through the doors. He stood staring for a long time at the woman he loved. He wanted to talk to her, but he knew he couldn't. Ever since she was admitted to St. Mungo's she hasn't said anything more than incoherent mumbling.

Hermione was laying in a bed in her private room. He took a seat in a stiff chair next to her. Ever since she found the Ravenclaw chamber and read that damn _Psychotropathy_ book, Ron spent most wakeful hours here. He didn't know if she enjoyed his company or not. Oblivious to him, she spent her days drooling and staring unfocused at nothing in particular.

Ron took out a book and began to read quietly to Hermione.

"Ron?"

"Huh?" Ron mumbled.

"Ron. You need to get up now." A stern looking nurse was standing over him.

"Was I asleep?"

"You sure were. I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over."

Checking the time he said, "Damn, I need to go." He hurriedly put on his coat and grabbed his wand. He bent down and kissed Hermione on the forehead. "See you later."

"See you later," the nurse whispered to herself as she watched him go.


	10. Epilogue - Option 2

Ron descended the stairs and pushed through the doors. He stood staring for a long time at the woman he loved. He wanted to talk to her, but he knew he couldn't. When she was engrossed in a book there was nothing he could do to stop her. Resigned, he smiled and stretched out on the sofa in Ravenclaw's private office.

Hermione was sitting next to him in one of the plush chairs reading a book from the shelves. He glanced at the cover and noticed the title: _Defensive Deduction_.

Ever since she found the Ravenclaw chamber, Hermione spent most wakeful hours down here. Ron quite enjoyed their time down here. She read and wrote while he napped or generally kept her company. It was certainly more cozy than the library.

"Hi Ron."

"Huh?" Ron mumbled.

"How was your nap?" Hermione asked him.

"Was I asleep?"

"You sure were. Your little snores are so cute."

Defensively, Ron grumbled, "I don't snore."

With a chortle Hermione said, "Oh, ok. Then I guess there's a tiny Erumpent running loose in here somewhere."

She was kneeling in front of him. She brushed the hair from his face and gently kissed his lips. Looking into his eyes she said, "I love you so much."

He smiled and said, "I love you too Mione."

She stood and looked around the small office. "I'm so glad I found this place. I've learned loads from these books."

"I'm just glad you stopped looking for that potion. It seems like nothing but trouble."

She smiled at him and said, "Me too." She took a seat behind the desk and said, "I've got to write a letter to Harry. I have some great ideas for him. Don't you have patrols now?"

Checking the time he said, "Damn, I need to go." He hurriedly put on his coat and grabbed his wand. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "See you later."

"See you later," she said as she watched him go.


End file.
